We Don't Belong Here: Love Never Dies
by TheMostRandomOfRandomWriters
Summary: For Erik, it's been ten years. For Ariel, it's only been a few months. It's been an eventful time for both. Now, though, Ariel has to deal what she knows will happen to him, and this time she has someone else to keep out of trouble.
1. Chapter 1

Life had settled into a peaceful routine. Paste on a smile for the crowds, sing and dance, pretend everything was fine.

Then mourn when I was alone, cleaning the stage makeup off my face.

A knock sounded at the door.

One of the other actresses – the Louisa in our production of _The Sound of Music_ – poked her head in the door. "Are you okay?"

I kept my head turned away slightly, rubbing away the tears. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

"You were crying. What happened?"

A lot she didn't know about. "I'm fine."

She crossed the room to my table. "You're a great actress, Ariel. But you're a _horrible_ liar."

"I'm sorry. It's just… my friend. Who went missing and died."

"You miss her?"

"You have no idea. It's kind of been a crazy year for me."

"Well, with you becoming _famous_, I can imagine."

Some videos of me in _Phantom of the Opera_ had gone viral on youtube. Within weeks, I had become the latest internet sensation. "That, my friend going missing, that guy attacking me at the audition, and, to cap it off, I lost my singing teacher." And I met my brother for the first time, but that's another story.

"I'm… sorry. Did they ever catch the guy who attacked you?"

I pushed the chair back and let my hair down out of its bun. It hung down long, flowing down my back. "Not really. But I'm not worried about him coming back."

"Why not?"

"It's… complicated. Now, excuse me, sorry, my ride is waiting for me."

I pulled on my jacket and headed out.

As I walked down the hall to the doorway, I began to hum "Till I Hear You Sing" from _Love Never Dies_. I saw the original production in London while I was there once, with Ramin Karimloo and Sierra Boggess. It was one of the best nights of my life.

Say what you like about the show's story – I'll probably even agree with you – but it has beautiful music.

My friend Edward was waiting out front with the car he borrows from his parents. He's still saving up for a car of his own.

Just to make it clear, Edward and I... we're friends. Great friends. That's all. Sure, we sang romantic duets and pretended to kissed each other onstage when he was playing the Phantom opposite me in that production of POTO I mentioned. There's a bunch of people online who ship us, citing our "incredible chemistry" and our obvious liking for each other. Those people _desperately_ need a life. Neither of us have any real romantic interest in each other. Edward has... had interest elsewhere, and I'm too busy for any at all._  
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We drove in silence for a few minutes.

"Mind if I turn on some music?" asked Edward.

I nodded.

He pulled a CD, still wrapped in plastic, from under the seat. The soundtrack for _Love Never Dies_.

I ripped off the plastic and put it in the CD player.

We sang along with our favorites, doing duets on "Look with Your Heart" and "Once Upon Another Time".

"Listening to you never gets old," said Edward during "Dear Old Friend". "Your voice is like magic."

I blushed "Thanks."

"So how'd you learn to do that? Because I've talked to all of your old music teachers - I was looking for a new teacher and I talked to all your old ones - but I still can't figure out how you did it. You didn't develop it gradually, it just appeared that night onstage."

I'd never told him my secret. It was probably time.

We pulled up in front of my house. My parents weren't home yet – they were spending the evening out.

"Edward... I need you to stay here for a minute."

He obeyed without a word.

I ran upstairs and dug out from my closet a dress I never thought I'd wear again out of my closet. Red, like blood. Much too tight on me without a corset – I could hardly breathe – but for the moment that didn't matter. I would only have it on for a few minutes.

I walked out to the car again.

"Wow," said Edward. "Where did you get that? And what does that have to do with my question?"

"Truth is, Edward," I said. "I didn't learn it from them. I… learned it from someone else."

The world around me suddenly started to spin.

"Uh oh," I said.

"What does uh oh mean?"

"That you're about to find out without my telling you. I'm sorry."

My surroundings suddenly went black.

I felt myself falling. My head hit something and I passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

Ariel here.

I woke up with an intense headache – which shouldn't really be a surprise. I was lying on something soft.

People were moving around and talking nearby.

"… fell through the ceiling…" said a male voice I didn't recognize.

"The ceiling?" echoed another voice. "Are you sure?"

"Saw with my own eyes, Sir."

"Leave us alone for a while."

A set of footsteps headed away from me, out of the room.

Another set of footsteps headed toward me. Someone sat down next to me.

"Can you hear me?" asked a male voice I couldn't quite recognize.

I couldn't respond.

The next thing I was aware of was music. Someone was playing the piano. Occasionally, there would be a sound of paper crumpling, then a sound of something hitting the floor.

I opened my eyes and managed to push myself up onto one elbow.

I was in a dark room. In the center stood a piano, with a man sitting at it, playing.

He crumpled up another sheet of paper and threw it on the ground.

"Ten long years," he muttered.

All the pieces suddenly fit together.

"Erik?" I asked.

He spun around on his seat. "Ariel?"

I nodded.

He moved off the piano stool, sitting down next to me. "It's ten years. You haven't changed at all... you fell through the ceiling."

"Sorry. I have no idea how that happened."

He moved me into a sitting position against the wall. "How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts, but that's to be expected."

Over the next few days, I recovered. Erik brought me some more… era appropriate clothing. A pink dress. And… other things. Like corsets. Apparently, they aren't all that uncomfortable if you get one that fits properly, but I've never had one that really fit me properly. I will say it's not as bad as it's made out to be, though, if it's laced properly. Tight lacing may have been popular at some times in history, but it really wasn't as bad as it was made out to be. Wearing one that doesn't fit right is still unpleasant though, like I said.

My memory was a bit of a mess from the blow to the head – I could only remember coming home after the performance and then falling. No, I didn't remember Edward. Yes, I am properly ashamed of myself.

Erik was constantly in the room. He was always composing.

I never saw Madame Giry or Meg. They were probably busy. Or he didn't consider me to be any of their business.

On one occasion, as I sat watching, he shoved a piece of music at me. "Can you sing this?"

I nodded and started to sing. It was "Love Never Dies" in an early stage – definitely different than the one he would give Christine.

"You sound as wonderful as ever. Where have you been in the last ten years?" He started writing notes onto another piece of paper.

"I've been trying to advance musically since I left. I've been here, actually, in America. I'm not French. Neither of us were."

"What happened to your friend?"

"She died."

Erik dropped his pen. "What?"

"Yes. Died about a couple months ago. She… tripped and fell while carrying a sharp object. Straight through her chest. Died a couple hours later."

He retrieved his pen. "I…" He didn't seem to know quite what to say.

"This isn't like your pieces for the shows," I said, handing him the music. "What's it for?" I knew the answer but couldn't stay on the subject any longer.

"For a special event at the end of the season. You of course remember Christine?"

No, Erik, I completely forgot about the woman who you stalked and tried to force to marry you. "Yes, of course I remember her."

"I've invited her to come and sing. Her husband has gotten into some… financial problems and I've promised to pay her well."

"I'm going to guess and say that she doesn't know it's who's paying?"

He shook his head.

"This isn't going to end well, Erik."

"It's only for one night. Then she leaves. Pockets full, debts paid."

If only he knew what would happen… if only I could tell him.

See, my friend who I mentioned was a very… special person. She had the ability to travel between dimensions – into worlds where stories from our world are real. Like _Phantom of the Opera_. Or _Love Never Dies_. Ivy was dead now – from an accident, like I said – but anything she touched had some of the energy that her body used for the travel left on it. I guess she must have been in the car Edward was using at some point – she used gloves and stuff and tried to limit what she got energy on, but it really didn't work all that well.

I wished she was here to help me from messing everything up.

If only I could tell Erik. If only.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi, it's Edward here.

So, what was I doing all this time?

I got dropped outside of Phantasma, in New York.

I love New York City. My parents sometimes take me there to see musicals and performances. I actually was there a little while ago and saw _Les Miserables_ with Ramin Karimloo, it was amazing…

Unfortunately, in 1905, New York was different than it is now.

I didn't have a clue what I was doing or where I was going, and to cap it off it was really dark out.

I spent the night curled up in a doorway in a dark alley, not knowing what else to do.

In the morning, I made a few guesses as to what had happened and made my way to Coney Island and to Phantasma. I just kind of stayed there, not knowing what else to do.

As luck would have it, someone spotted me outside the fence. Meg Giry.

"You need something?" she asked, walking up to the fence that was the border of the park.

"This might sound a bit odd, but I'm looking for someone who I think might be here."

"Who? What does she do?"

"She would be visiting a… friend, I think. Her name is Ariel."

"I haven't heard anything about her being here. Just a minute and I'll see if I can find out anything for you."

She returned a few minutes later with Madame Giry.

"Who is it you're asking for?"

"Ariel Dalton. She's a friend of mine. I don't know where she is, but I thought she might have come here."

"Where did you both come from?"

"We both live here in America. We heard about Phantasma and she told me she wanted to see someone here." Technically true. She _had_ told me once she'd like to visit Phantasma and that she'd like to meet the Phantom – I just hadn't quite figured out why at the time.

"I don't know anything about it, sorry. Oh, Meg," she said. "One of our male dancers quit. We'll have to start looking again."

"So close to opening day?" groaned Meg.

"If you need a replacement, I might be able to help you." The words fell out of my mouth before I knew what I was doing.

"Are you a dancer?"

I nodded. Yes, I have training in ballet and dance.

"Come around to the gate," said Madame Giry, eyeing me suspiciously.

And that was how I came to live and work at Phantasma.

It was… different than anything else I'd ever done.

I guessed who Ariel's mysterious teacher was from where I'd ended up. I wasn't really surprised. It was more shocking that I hadn't put it together before. I'd had all the puzzle pieces, it just hadn't occurred to me to put them together before now.

I didn't bear her any kind of grudge for not telling me. We were friends, but that doesn't mean she owes me anything or has some obligation to tell me. Besides, how in the world do you start _that_ conversation? "Hey, Edward, you know how I really shocked you with that performance? Well, I traveled into a different universe and learned how to sing like that from a crazy genius composer who you're playing opposite me in a musical?" I don't think so.

Meg seemed to like for some reason. Maybe because I was the only male in the entire carnival that didn't either ignore her or harass her in one way or another.

She invited me to come swimming with her in the mornings. Often, she came later than promised. She never talked with me those mornings. She always swam out far past me – I'm not much a swimmer and stuck close to shore. Sometimes, I heard her crying. She'd return with her eyes slightly red. I never commented.

After that, we would get coffee sometimes.

"You're lucky, you know," she said one day, when she'd swum out farther than usual and seemed unusually tired. We'd stopped in at the hotel for coffee. "You don't have anyone to help or support."

"No, I don't."

The man behind the counter was gone, getting the coffee for us.

"No one who's constantly better than you that you have to measure up to."

I wouldn't entirely say that. I can't pretend I didn't feel a little upstaged by Ariel that night when we first performed together. My night, to prove that I _am_ capable. But compared to Meg, I have nothing to complain about.

I know Meg takes a lot of criticism over her characterization in _Love Never Dies_. But think about it. She needs approval. She looks for it from her mother and doesn't get it there. She looks for it from the Phantom and he ignores her. She does everything she can, gives everything she has, and it's not enough. Wouldn't that make _you_ snap?

She's about ten years older than I am. But somehow we managed to be friends, kind of.

"I can't imagine anyone who'd be better than you," I said.

For the first time since I'd met her, she smiled. Not a smile like onstage – I'd seen those. She gave me a real, genuine smile, the kind that really lit up her face. "Thanks."


	4. Chapter 4

Hey, it's Ariel again.

I was up and walking eventually, but I stayed in Erik's lair. Which is why I didn't see Edward. I remembered nothing the night before, courtesy of the blow to the head.

The day Christine arrived, Erik literally could not sit down. He paced back and forth.

"Sing this again," he demanded, pushing "Love Never Dies" at me.

I obeyed.

He yanked it out of my hands. "Is there anything you think should be different?"

"It's _beautiful_, Erik," I said. "Don't worry."

He sat down at the piano and started playing again. A different melody, this time. He'd been considering it for "Love Never Dies" but had decided against it. "I just can't get this out of my head. I think it's perfect for _something_, but I don't know what. I have words and notes but it just won't come together."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out."

He hummed something and added it to his playing. He began to sing softly – I couldn't quite understand the words.

He finally stopped. "It's like in Paris, isn't it?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Do you remember that song I wrote for Christine in _Don Juan_? The one after where she discovers Don Juan's identity?"

I've written down that entire opera to the best of my memory - I practically had every piece committed to memory by the time Erik was done, it _was_ six months, after all - but I will never forget a single note of that song as long I live. It's an awesome song, even by Erik's standards, and it's so high that any nearby glass almost cracks when someone sings it. "Yes."

"Sing it for me. I… just… it will complete the memory for me."

I began to sing.

It _was_ like being in Paris again. It was like being in that candlelit cavern, with Erik at the organ, composing _Don Juan Triumphant_. Even the pink dress he'd given me was a reminder.

Erik began to sing Don Juan's response to the aria, slower, deeper.

His voice was magical. Not of this earth. Compelling. Hypnotic.

We took parts singing the following music. I'm not really trained for opera – the only training I really ever got was from Erik – but it was still amazing.

We finished.

I took several breaths, staring up at Erik, looking right in his eyes.

"Thank you," said Erik.

He sat down again.

His music is a like a spell. A magical spell that, when cast, doesn't permit you to do anything else but listen. You don't _want_ to do anything else but listen.

"Thank you," said Erik. "Would you like to go with the greeting party for Christine?"

I considered for a moment. "Yes."

An hour later, I was in a carriage with Fleck, Squelch, and Gangle.

"How do you know the master?" asked Fleck, who wasn't much shorter than I was."

"We… met in Paris. Ten years ago. I was his student, for lack of a better way to put it."

"Have you seen behind his mask?" asked Fleck.

"Yes. Once."

We pulled up in front of a crowd.

Raoul's shouting was audible from inside the carriage.

I leaned out.

One look at my face and both Christine and Raoul went silent and frozen.

"You…" said Christine. Her face went several shades paler. "I know you."

"Madame de Chagny. It's a pleasure to see you again."

"What's the meaning of this?" demanded Raoul.

"Are you ready to begin?" asked Squelch. "Are you ready to get on? You're about to start out on the journey of your lives."

"If you're ready then get in, once you're in then we'll get gone. And who knows, once it goes, where you'll be when it arrives?"

"It's a fun-house where the mirrors all reflect what's real," I sang. "And reality's as twisted as the mirrors reveal and the fun is finding out what the mirrors show."

"Everything and everyone, it's all just how I dreamed," sang Gustave, already climbing into the carriage. "All the freaks and all the fun, exactly how I dreamed! And Phantasma still awaits... Wonder what's behind its gates?"

If only you knew, Gustave. If only you knew.


	5. Chapter 5

I escorted them to the hotel.

Neither Christine nor Raoul had a word to me, while Gustave would not stop talking away in French until Raoul told him too.

"Why are you here?" asked Raoul suddenly as they climbed out of the carriage.

"Everyone has to live somewhere, Viscomte. I live in America."

"You worked for him."

"I did not work for him, Viscomte. I was his student."

Raoul helped Christine out of the carriage. "You were involved. But he's dead now, and good riddance," he muttered under his breath, though I still heard.

"Mr. Y has asked that I make sure you are both comfortable as you get settled in," I said, climbing from the carriage. "And this is a gift for Gustave." I handed him the toy that plays music.

"Who is Mr. Y? The rumors say that he is a genius inventor wears a mask."

And yet you still can't figure it out for yourself. "Mr. Y is that, yes. Deformed from birth, I believe, I've never asked." I hope that's it, anyhow. The whole "scarring by acid" back story that's so popular in the film adaptations is kind of lame. "He doesn't talk about himself. He's never actually told me his full name, either."

The carriage stopped in front of the hotel.

"Sounds like someone else we all know," said Raoul. "We won't need your help, Miss…" he suddenly realized he didn't know my name.

"Ariel," I said. I'd never introduced myself in Paris, now I came to think of it. "Ariel Dalton."

They headed into the hotel.

Erik was composing again when I got back.

"Sing this," he ordered, pushing a piece of music at me.

I started to sing the piece.

It was the one of the most beautiful songs I'd ever heard – one of the most beautiful things Erik had ever composed. It had no words, so I sang it on la.

"It's amazing," I breathed when I finished it.

He pulled it back out of my hands and sat back at the piano. "I don't like the way that second verse ends. Much too abrupt."

Just like when he was composing _Don Juan Triumphant_. I'd think it was amazing and he'd still find fault with it.

"I want you to sing tonight," he said.

I spun around, sputtering. "_What_?"

"Tonight. After Miss Giry is finished."

"But –"

"No buts, just sing. Here, sing these." He thrust a pile of music sheets at me.

Luckily, they were all songs I knew, that Erik had used to teach me. Beautiful songs, classical songs, from operas mostly.

I prayed I could fill the room with my voice – it takes years for opera singers to learn how to sing. I'd had less than a year of proper training from Erik. This would be interesting. And scary. Really scary.

"What do you want me to wear?" The dresses I had were nice, but hardly suitable.

He walked over to his table and produced a dress. It was blue, with peacock designs on the front and back and a colorful sash.

I literally only had time to run over the songs once before I was taken backstage and had to put on makeup applied.

"Don't worry, you'll do wonderfully," said Erik as I finished up with the makeup.

If only I was so sure. The dress had required me to tighten my corset and I could barely breathe. I could barely breathe with the way that _thing_ is anyhow.

"Five minutes," someone shouted.

Meg burst in. "I thought I was the last act!"

"No, I decided to add one at the last minute," said Erik.

She just stared at me. She glanced from me to Erik. Then she spun around and marched out.

I stood up and took the deepest breath I could.

I walked onto stage to only a little applause. No would have any idea who I was.

I smiled out at the crowd and started out with the first piece, "Think of Me".

It was hot onstage. The fabric of my dress was heavy, the kind that looks nice under lights but is really unpleasant to wear. But I barely noticed, throwing myself into every syllable of the music.

At the end of my performance, the crowd jumped to their feet and started applauding. They kept on applauding for at least two minutes.

I felt horrible about stealing Meg's thunder. But I'd made Erik happy. The happiest I'd seen him.


	6. Chapter 6

Edward here.

Ariel's voice is enchanting, no matter how many times you hear it.

I stood at the back of the theater, listening to her sing. Every note was clear and beautiful and… I wish _I_ could get some lessons from the Phantom. Ariel's voice is unearthly. Her technique isn't perfect - it's really, really good, but not perfect - but it's really easy for forget it when you hear her sing.

Meg appeared next to me suddenly. "I'm going for a swim. Want to come?"

I turned to see her. Her face was pale and she looked like she wanted to cry.

Even though it was getting dark, I nodded. There'd be no use talking her out of it, and she'd be safer with a partner.

She swam out even further than usual that night, in the dark. I sensed she needed the distance and didn't swim out.

She eventually returned as it became pitch black.

We treaded water for a little while.

We swam to shore again.

"Thank you for coming with me," said Meg as she dried herself off. "I… needed to do that."

She slipped behind a clump of trees so she could change out of her bathing suit.

She emerged a minute later wearing a grey dress. "What did you think of the girl who was singing when we left?" she asked.

I had to chose my words here very, very carefully. "Her sense of rhythm isn't great and she really can't sing low notes very well." Both of which are true - sorry, Ariel. "Plus, she really should move around a bit more onstage. She doesn't need to be dancing around or anything, but it wouldn't hurt if she tried to do something aside from stand there." Also true. Usually, she does do quite a bit of that - she was probably nervous that night and so not up to her usual standards.

"She's your friend who you were looking for the day you came, isn't she? You said her name was Ariel."

Caught, I nodded.

"How well do you know her?"

Was that jealousy in Meg's voice?"We attended school together for a little while. I haven't known her very long and I honestly don't know her very well, either." I don't, really, if I'm being completely honest.

"She was the Master's student, wasn't she? I recognized it in her voice. She sounded like one I knew once."

"I don't know for sure. I _think_ she might have been. Like I said, I don't really know her all that well. It's been a while." A month or two is a while, isn't it?

She didn't quite seem satisfied with that answer. "Do you thinks she's pretty?"

Ariel is sitting right next to me as we record this for the person who writes these down and posts them online, so saying anything aside from "Yes, Ariel is gorgeous" is probably a bad idea. Ariel _is_ gorgeous, I'll just leave it at that.

"Not as pretty as someone else I know," I said. There's another girl I have... had my eye on, and, well, it's not Ariel. That's who I was talking about when I said that.

Meg, however, seemed to think I was talking about her. Her face lit up slightly. "You think I'm pretty?"

There's only one correct answer to that question. "Yes." Yes, I honestly do.

She turned away, but I saw her smiling.

It's Ariel here now. Hi.

"I'm going to be out this evening," said Erik, standing up from the piano. "You're all right on your own, aren't you?"

"Yes, of course," I replied. "You're going to see Christine? I can only imagine how…" – I searched for the right word – "surprised she'll be."

"If you need anything, tell Madame Giry."

I wouldn't go near her if my life depended on it. She was convinced the second Erik introduced me as his guest that I was going to replace Meg somehow, and her attitude hadn't changed at all since, especially with my performance that night. "Yes, Erik, of course."

Erik turned to go.

"Be careful," I said. "Christine thinks you're dead and she hasn't seen you in ten years. Don't try to predict how she'll react. And…" I hesitated.

"What?"

"Just remember that she's married. She's not yours."

For a while after he left, I played the piano.

Eventually, I headed out up into the noise and chaos of the park. I couldn't stop myself from humming "Coney Island Waltz" as I found my way up to a high point that overlooked Phantasma. Seeing it onstage is one thing. Actually seeing it is completely different, I can assure you. Rides and lights and attractions going on forever in all directions, to the edge of the water.

I should tell Erik what was going to happen. I should do something.

Or shouldn't I?


	7. Chapter 7

Edward here now.

I woke up the next morning to someone pounding on the door of the room I was sleeping in.

"Who is it?" I yelled.

"Madame Giry."

What could she want?

I got up and opened the door. "Have I done something wrong, Madame?"

"I want to talk to you about Meg."

"You have spent a lot of time with my daughter, Meg. I want to know exactly what your relationship with her is."

This concern coming from the woman who's been using her daughter's body as a bargaining chip for ten years? "We dance together, Madame Giry. We go swimming. Occasionally, we have coffee afterwards. That's all." She's not so much older than me, but she's a bit too old for me to be interested in her.

"Meg does not need anything distracting her from her career. Or her… other purposes in life."

"If I'm that, Madame, it's not my intention, let me assure you."

"You were with her last night. Where did you go?"

"Swimming, Madame. After that, we had coffee. We talked. I returned here, and as far as I know, she returned to you. I know nothing beyond that."

"I see." She didn't seem to believe me. "Are you _sure_ that your relationship with her is just what you said?"

"Yes, Madame." I'm eighteen, by the way. I may not have been entirely truthful about my age when I signed up - I may have added on five or six years.

"All right. I will leave it that way for now."

The rest of the morning was normal. We rehearsed for Meg's songs the next night, which was closing night. I wasn't doing "Bathing Beauty" - I couldn't do the lift because my arm was badly sprained from an accident a few days before.

The de Chagnies arrived in the middle of practice, with Gustave running onstage and right into me.

"Oh, pardon," said Gustave.

"That's okay," I said.

He stared at me in confusion for a moment.

It suddenly occurred to me that we were in America, and the de Chagnies were French. Therefore, Gustave spoke French, not English. I'd never thought of that before.

"I'm sorry," said Sierra Boggess/Christine de Chagny, stepping forward. She had a heavy French accent.

I almost regretted not brushing up on my French once in a while. Almost.

"It's all right, Madame de Chagny," I replied.

She went off to tend to Gustave.

"Edward?"

Meg walked over to me, wearing a bathing suit. "Be honest – how do I look?"

"You look… very nice." What else do you say?

She lowered her voice a little. "Do you think the routine's a bit… free?"

"If you have to ask me, Meg, I think you already know the answer yourself."

"Excuse me, Miss, do you mind?" asked Madame de Chagny.

Meg turned and, I have no doubt, completely forgot about me.

I moved away and allowed them to start their song.

There's something _unnerving_ about being in a musical. People breaking into song around you… it's weird.

"Edward?"

A voice behind me caused me to spin around. "Ariel?"

She looked terrific. I'd never seen her look happier – or paler, either. Must have been from the lack of sunlight in Erik's home.

Ariel didn't even miss a beat. She threw her arms around my neck. "My dear old friend, can't believe you're here, old friend. However did you come?" Right on the tune. Creepy.

And before I knew what to do, I was singing too. "I came with you."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Just what I said."

She went pale. "Edward!" She wasn't singing anymore. "I forgot, I hit my head in a fall, I'm so sorry, I can't believe it." There was an awkward pause between us. "How've you been?" asked Ariel.

The look of horror on her face made it impossible for me not to forgive her. "I've been doing well. I've found a place to stay here, as a dancer."

"You never told me you could dance," said Ariel. She still looked upset about forgetting.

"Everyone made fun of me, so I stopped, but I kept what I had in my memory."

"Good for you." She didn't quite look me in the eye.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Meg eyeing us with… was that jealousy?


	8. Chapter 8

Ariel here.

Raoul spotted me and the entire scene came to a standstill.

"_You_!" he said. "You were in on this!"

Edward moved away. Wise choice.

In three steps, Raoul was in front of me. He grabbed my wrist hard. "I should have known, with you being here."

I slipped my wrist from his grip. "I will thank you to remember, Viscomte, that laying hands on a woman – especially one who has done nothing to you – is not well looked upon, and, in fact, illegal." At least, I think it was in 1905. I'm not sure.

I met his gaze squarely.

He actually seemed surprised, being the first to look away.

"I am here with my teacher because I have no where else to stay at the moment," I said.

"You've barely aged over ten years. How is that possible?"

I didn't respond. "Excuse me, Viscomte, Madame de Chagny, Madame and Miss Giry, but I am needed elsewhere."

I turned and headed away.

No one but myself could see Edward giving me a thumbs up.

I headed back to Erik's home. Gustave was already there.

"Ariel," said Erik without looking up from the music sheets he'd scattered all over the table. "Would you please help keep an eye on the boy?"

"My pleasure."

"And he doesn't speak English."

Oh, great. My French is horrible. I speak a little bit of Italian, but that's the only language I've ever had luck with. Believe me, I've tried. A lot of classical music isn't written in English – it's an advantage to understand the words and pronunciation without having to be told. But I'm pretty much hopeless.

I'm not going to recount my attempts at communication with Gustave because they're just too embarrassing.

I finally managed to tell him that, if he wanted to, he could play the piano.

Why is it I could speak French when we were in Paris, and now I can't? It probably has something to do with that everyone was speaking one language then. And now we were in America where people would be speaking different ones.

Figure out your own theory if you don't like that one.

Gustave started to play the piano.

I love that tune. It's simple but it's pretty.

Erik stopped what he was doing and came closer to the instrument.

Gustave started singing – in French, so if I hadn't known what he was saying ahead of time, I never would have guessed.

I made a mental note to take some time and work on my French.

Erik listened for a few more moments, then turned to me. "He plays like me. He's just ten years old… ten years ooooooold!"

He glanced over at me. "I…"

"I know what you're thinking." I refrained to comment on what I thought of his actions – which, by the way, I disapprove of. Throughout this entire escapade. Yes, he and Christine are in love. She's also married, regardless of how Raoul treats her. "You're thinking he's your son."

"Could it be?"

Well, a kid whose brain works like that definitely isn't _Raoul'_s offspring.

I could almost hear "The Beauty Underneath" music starting. I don't like that song. It's... creepy.

He and Erik sang together in French. Which makes me the first person to hear the French version of "The Beauty Underneath", I guess. Unless there's a version of the show in French or something that I don't know about.

Erik knelt down and guided Gustave's hands to his mask.

It went about as well as you might expect. Gustave screamed and ran, straight into Christine.

Christine started calming her son as Erik replaced his mask and stood up.

"Would you take care of Gustave?" she addressed to me.

I took him arm and managed to guide him out of the room.

He started to cry and ask me questions – in French, of course, so I didn't understand what he was asking. I sat him down on a crate, took a deep breath, and summoned my knowledge of French and my patience. I have little of either, to be honest.


	9. Chapter 9

Ariel here.

I have decided to put our conversation in English and paraphrase everything because I am _not_ replicating my horrible French for this.

"Gustave. It's all right. It's okay."

He didn't respond through his sobs.

"Gustave? Please, listen."

He stared at me – probably shocked out of crying by just how bad my accent was. "What is he?"

"He's a man. My music teacher."

"What happened to him?" As least, I _think_ that's what he said.

"He was born that way. Because of that, he wears a mask, otherwise people do what you just did. It _is_ scary, Gustave." I was six when I first saw _Phantom_. I was so scared I cried. "But he didn't think it would scare you. That's why he took the mask off." I didn't know what to say, and couldn't have said it even if I had known.

Gustave rubbed his eyes.

"Your mother will be here soon. You can't tell anyone about this. Not even your father. All right?"

He nodded.

I stood up just as Christine came entered.

"Madame de Chagny," I said. "He's all right."

"Thank you."

She took Gustave out.

Erik appeared a moment later. His face was absolutely white. As was his hair, because the wig wasn't on. Neither was the mask. "My son..." he breathed. "A son."

He glanced at me and tried to pull the mask up.

I put a hand on top of his, stopping him. "You don't need to do that."

"I never did scare you."

"No." Even when I should have stayed away, I didn't. I don't regret my decision, but it was a horrible one none the less.

"Even my own son recoils in horror..." said Erik.

"Your face _is_ startling, Erik. I will not deny that. But he's not afraid of you. He was scared in the same way that I might be scared if you startled me. He's a small boy who didn't know what to expect."

He didn't respond to that.

"Don't make any hasty decisions."

He nodded and wandered away. A moment later, I heard the piano playing. It was scary music – even for Erik. A magnificent, angry sob, from the depths of his soul.

Wow, don't I sound like a poet?

I left to find Edward.

Edward here, narrating now.

"Who was that girl you were talking to before?" asked Meg as we began to set up for her big number.

"Ariel."

"Ah. She looks... different when she's not performing. It's the lights, I suppose. And the makeup she wears onstage. She's rather short, isn't she?"

Ariel's four feet eleven inches. Eleven and a _half_ inches, to be precise. She's very particular people about remembering the half inch.

"Just _how_ well do you know her?"

"She's my friend."

For some reason, at that exact moment, Ariel chose to approach.

"Edward! I'm sorry I took so long getting back to you, I had... things to deal with. Remind me to work on French when we get home. Edward, I haven't told Erik yet – now's really not the best time – but I promise I will when I get a good opportunity. Oh! Miss Giry. Hello."

"Hello." Meg's eyes were suddenly cold.

"Well, I'll get back to you soon," said Ariel, walking away.

"Edward..." said Meg slowly, quietly. "What am I to you?"

"You're my friend." I hoped this conversation wasn't going where I thought it was.

She took a step toward me, her eyes darting around the deserted stage. "Your friend? Is that all I am?"

"What do you mean by that?"

She laughed.

And suddenly, she was kissing me.

For a moment, I just stood there, too shocked to react.

I didn't know what to do. Whatever I did would hurt both of us.

I did what I prayed was the right thing and gently pushed her away.

She stared at me, her face absolutely white. "It's _her_, isn't it?"

"No." I had to let her down, really, really gently. "But we can't do this. Your mother –"

"Has used me to win over so many men that I can't remember half their names. I don't care what she thinks anymore. And she can't fire you, she couldn't replace you."

I couldn't do this to her. Not with our age gap. Not when I'd have to leave eventually and go back. Not when we belonged in different dimensions. Not when I've got... interest elsewhere.

"I can't, Meg. I'm so, so sorry. You'll understand soon."

I turned and walked away, not looking back.


	10. Chapter 10

Edward here.

I ended up exploring the carnival for the rest of the day, avoiding Meg, who was getting ready for her show – her attempt to upstage Christine.

I wandered back toward the concert hall at _just_ the right time to hear the song. _Bathing beauty, on the beach, Bathing beauty, say hello_...

I sank down against the wall outside and buried my face in my hands. What had I done? She would have done it anyhow, but I knew, somehow, that my rejection of her had probably fueled her.

Guilt kind of sucks.

"What are you doing?"

I sat up to see Ariel.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet.

"Come on, I want to introduce you to Erik."

"You told him?"

"No. I told him I had someone I needed to introduce him to. Honestly, I don't know how he'll react. But the longer we hide it, the worse it'll be."

That was probably for the best.

The Phantom was inside his lair – that is all I will ever be able to think of that place as. It was a very dark, very grim place. I shuddered to think Ariel had been there for all these weeks.

Ariel motioned for me to stay just outside the doorway.

"Uh... Erik," she said, entering the room.

In the dim, gloomy atmosphere, her white dress stood out. She looked a bit like a ghost.

The Phantom was at the piano, playing. "Ariel? There you are. Listen to this."

I've never heard anything those like those few bars he played. A magnificent cry of triumph, a cheer. What absolute delight would sound like if it were music.

"The words are still being written," said the Phantom as it was finishing.

"It's beautiful, Erik. Just like everything you write. But I have something I need to tell you." She took a little breath. "There's someone who came to Phantasma with me. I just found out this morning – that fall took a bit of my memory."

"Who?"

"A friend." She gestured to me.

I stepped forward into the lair.

The Phantom stared at me for a moment, his expression unreadable. "This was... unexpected."

I really, really hoped this would work out.

"This is Edward. My friend. Edward, meet the Phantom."

The Phantom eyed me for a moment.

My heart was beating so loudly I bet he could hear it.

"You're her friend how?"

"We both trained in music at the same school." Close enough.

He continued staring. It was more than a bit unnerving.

"Sing something."

I frantically searched my memory for something that came out before 1905. The first one that popped into my head was "Bist Du Bei Mir". I sat down at the piano and started playing and singing.

I pulled it off pretty well, I think, all things considered. Not as well as I could have, but I was so tense it's a wonder I pulled it off at all.

The Phantom looked to me, then to Ariel. He apparently had no comment, but his expression said it all. He was not impressed.

"Your level of training is... different than hers."

"I know I'm not nearly as good as she is. We performed together in a..." I remembered that they didn't call musicals "musicals" until recently and searched my brain for the right word – "operetta." I glanced at Ariel.

The Phantom raised an eyebrow. "Of what sort?"

Ariel and I turned to each other. I could only imagine her ranting at me in her brain.

I began to stutter.

Ariel spoke louder than me, naming off an operetta whose name escapes me – I'd never heard of it before and I don't remember it now, but she told me afterwards it was real.

"Christine's concert begins in an hour and I need to... speak with her. We can discuss this more later," said the Phantom.

Ariel showed me out.

The moment we were above the surface, Ariel started ranting. "Seriously? An operetta?! Your voice doesn't project _nearly_ as much as it needs to if you want to pretend that you're singing on any kind of stage."

"I know. Stupid thing to say. I get it."

"Stupid doesn't even begin to cover it."

"I'm sorry."

"I can't stand this. Everyone's going to get hurt tonight. Raoul, Erik, Christine... I remember Ivy at the opera house. She kept insisting we couldn't do things that would mess stuff up. I wasn't thrilled with that. I wish she were here to stop me, because I just want to tell Erik everything." Ariel bent her head and started to sob.

I wrapped an arm around her and let her cry onto my shoulder.


	11. Chapter 11

Edward here.

We found a seat in one of the boxes – apparently, the Phantom had built himself one for performances.

We watched as Christine came onto the stage, in that white dress, singing "Love Never Dies".

Ariel watched Christine as she began the first words. Tears filled her eyes as she continued.

Frankly, I can't say I've ever cared for that song. I can't even say I care for this entire musical. But being there, it puts everything into a very different light. I was crying too, by the end, and and my feet applauding with everyone else.

After Christine left the stage, there was a moment of silence in the box.

Ariel stood up from her seat without turning around. "Erik, there you are."

I jumped up, startled.

The Phantom had slipped up behind us.

Did they have a telepathic link or something? Something that let Ariel know when he was nearby? That was a little creepy.

The visible side of the Phantom's face was especially creepy. It was triumphant.

"She was incredible," said Ariel. "Your song was beautiful and her performance... it was amazing."

"Come with me. You can tell her yourself."

Ariel motioned to me to stay where I was and left.

A very, very bad idea occurred to me. I should find Meg and try to fix things. Why should anyone have to die?

Before I even knew what I was doing, I got up and made my way backstage.

I found Meg backstage in her dressing room, staring at the mirror. Just staring blankly.

"Meg?" I asked.

She jumped up from her seat. "Edward. What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you."

She stared at me. "What do you want?" I'd never been addressed so coldly by anyone.

"I want to say that I know I hurt you. And that I'm sorry.

Meg dealt me the hardest slap I'd ever been dealt. She sent me sprawling on the ground.

Her next move was to kick me where it hurts. A lot.

"Wasn't good enough for you, was I?!" she screamed. "Not pretty enough? Didn't do enough for you?"

"Meg, it wasn't that."

She kicked me again, this time in the ribs.

"When is it enough? I've never been good enough, I've never been pretty enough! I went as far as I could and _I gave you everything I had_! But you couldn't even come to my performance! You couldn't even acknowledge I _existed_!"

Somehow, I got the feeling she wasn't talking to me anymore.

She kept kicking. I rolled out of the way and started to stand up.

She pushed me over hard.

My head hit the mirror. Glass shattered and everything went black.

Ariel here.

Of course, I was with Erik and didn't know about any of this.

I followed Erik to the door of Christine's room.

"Wait here a minute," he instructed. "I want to speak to Christine alone for a minute."

I waited outside the door, my stomach tying itself in knots.

A moment later, they burst out.

"Have you seen Gustave?" asked Christine.

I shook my head. "And on that note, where's Edward?"

The Freaks appeared a moment later. Edward limped between them, blood dripping down his face. "Meg. It's Meg." He sounded like he was in shock. "She took him somewhere. The pier, I think."

Erik and Christine took off running.

"You stay here, Edward," I said, picking up my skirt to run after them.

"Absolutely not. I contributed to this."

"Edward, you're bleeding. Let someone patch you up. _Stay here_."

I took off at a run after Christine and Erik.

I caught up with them in the crowds. I hadn't really explored the park and now wished I had. It was difficult to keep up, dodging around people.

We reached the pier in time to see Meg pulling Gustave toward the edge.

"Gustave!" screamed Christine.

"No, I'm not done yet."

Erik stepped forward threateningly. "Let go of him, girl, or I promise you –"

"Not another word. Always wondered how to make you watch, well. Watch. Me. Now!"


	12. Chapter 12

Ariel here still.

Meg stared Erik in the eye as she sang her next words. "I took a little trip to Coney Island. I took a little trip because of you. I did as Mother said and followed where you led and tried to do what little I could do. Well, here's the way it works on Coney Island. They make you pay for every little crumb. I gave what they would take, I gave it for your sake. Now look at me and see what I've become." She sang her reprise of "Bathing Beauty".

Erik's eyes widened. "What are you saying?"

"That Madame Giry may not have been completely honest about how the bills were paid." Edward stumbled up behind us. Blood glistened on his forehead.

I glared at him. Ivy would have _killed_ me for letting him follow.

"Who helped you raise the money? Who helped the permits come through? Who greased the wheels of your high flying deals? Bought you time when the bills came due? Who swayed the local bosses curried favor with the press? No, not her." She glared at Christine. "And who kept singing, desperate for your favor? Who kept dancing, hoping you would save her? Who kept dying and this is what you gave her?" She released Gustave, who ran back to his mother.

"And now that I've got your attention at last –" Meg pulled out a gun and put it against her head. " – here's the big finish and then you can go!"

Edward pushed past me.

I grabbed his sleeve. "What are you doing?"

"You really think he can talk her down?"

"You really think you can make this situation any better?"

"I can't do nothing. Does it really matter if it happens?"

He was right. I let go of his sleeve and let him go ahead. Why should anyone have to die? It wasn't like there's a _Love Never Dies_ sequel or anything.

If anyone who has the ability to make decisions like that reads this, please, I beg of you, _do not write another Phantom sequel_. _The phans will probably never forgive you._

"Meg," said Edward.

She aimed the gun at him.

Edward here.

"Meg, listen to me. No one's going to make you do that again. Things will only get better. They will get _much_ better, if you put that down. Give me the gun, Meg."

She hesitated, still aiming the weapon.

"You feel ugly, you feel used, you feel broken, you feel bruised. Ah, but me, I can see, all the beauty underneath." The song was worth a try, right?

The Phantom put his hands on the gun and began to gently pull it out of her hand.

"You've been robbed of love and pride, been ignored and pushed aside. Even so, I still know there is beauty underneath. "

"Yes." She'd nearly given the Phantom the gun. Just a little bit more...

"Diamonds never sparkle right, if they aren't set just right." I wasn't intending to finish the verse, obviously.

"Beauty sometimes goes unseen, we can't all be like Christine," sang the Phantom.

And the phandom face palmed as one.

"Christine. Always Christine!"

The gun went off and hit Christine.

Christine screamed.

Meg screamed.

Ariel grabbed Christine and managed to slow her descent to the ground.

Meg ran off into the dark.

"Where's Papa? He should be here Where's Papa?" asked Gustave.

"Your father, your real father," Christine breathed, and finally told him the truth. That the Phantom was his father.

Gustave screamed and ran.

The Phantom held onto Christine.

"Once upon another time, our story had only begun. I had a taste of joy, the most I ever knew. Now there isn't any time and somehow our story is done. And what about the boy, what am I to do?"

"Just love, just live, and give what we can give. And take the love that you deserve."

"Just love, just live, and give all that I have. And take what little I deserve," he finished.

Christine went limp.

Ariel stood up. She was physically shaking.

I followed her off the pier.

Once off, she leaned over and threw up.

I pulled her hair off her face as she did so.

She straightened up, her already white face even paler in the far off lights of the park. "What have I done? What have I done? Oh God, forgive me, what have I done? Why didn't I do something?" She took several deep, shuddering breaths.

"It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. It was a stupid accident."

"I've never felt sorrier for Ivy before. It's harder than it looks." A strange expression crossed her face. "We should be going home. Why aren't we going home?"

"What do you mean?"

"As soon as the musical ended, we went home." She stared out at the pier, where Raoul cradled his wife's body and Gustave was staring at the unmasked Phantom.

Nothing happened.

"Are we... stuck here?" Her voice squeaked.

"Are you unhappy about that?"

"I'm not sure."


	13. Chapter 13

Ariel here.

The next morning, we were still there.

Gustave was with Erik – the two were getting properly acquainted and playing piano together.

Edward was looking for Meg. He'd thoroughly searched the park. No one had seen her anywhere.

I sat in the lair with Erik and Gustave, watching them.

It was heartwarming, honestly, to watch them talking in French. I hadn't known Erik could be such a chatterbox.

Eventually, evening came. Gustave went to bed. We were still there.

"I see you're staying this time," said Erik, sitting down at the piano and beginning to play.

"As long as I can."

It was the tune he kept playing, over and over again, humming, sometimes trying to put words to it, but always stopping in frustration. He'd written down the notes – they were beautiful, each note chosen perfectly and excellently. A magnificently beautiful sob. But it needed words.

He began to suddenly sing a new set of words, softly, so low I couldn't make them out.

He suddenly began to scribble, fingers flying across the pages of music.

He ripped them off the piano and thrust them at me. "Sing it!"

I did.

The song was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard. Erik had poured his grief into the words. I was crying before I even got to the end, but I kept singing.

I put the sheet music on top of the piano and rubbed away my tears. "It's perfect, Erik."

Edward here.

I eventually found Meg.

It was _not_ easy. But, remembering that in the musical she was told that a "Mr. Thompson" was interested in her, I made some inquiries.

Mr. Thompson was a rich politician who had a lot of influence in the local government. On a hunch, I went directly to his house.

Fortunately, the man who answered the door was friendly and pleasant. He told me Meg had shown up the night before and that Meg was there still.

He let me slip in and head up to the room where Meg was.

Meg was sitting on the edge of a bed, wearing her dress from the night before. She looked... dead, for lack of a better word. Empty. Like someone who had decided she had nothing to live for. No reason to keep breathing. Just a dull, empty existence.

She turned toward me. "What do you want?"

"To see you."

"Why? I killed Christine. I spent so much time searching for people's approval that I lost everything I had to give. Even myself."

"And you think this will help you find yourself?"

"I have to stay alive somehow, and I somehow sense I'm not not welcome at Phantasma anymore. He's offered me a place to live and food to eat for now."

"In return for what?" I sat down next to her. "You can go. Just leave. Walk out. You were famous at Phantasma. You can always start over. Begin a new life. Find what you're looking for. Despite what you think, I care about you."

She avoided my gaze. "I never doubted it. Not really. I only really knew that when you pushed me off you. You didn't try to use me. That's when I knew."

"Then go. This is _New York_. There's theaters everywhere. You've got an incredible voice, acting skills, and can dance. And your name is well known."

She stood up. "I'll do it. I'll leave before he comes."

"Here, take this." I produced a folder from inside my jacket.

She blinked as she took it. "What is this?"

"A gift. For you. _His_ music." The 'his' said it all.

"W-where did you get it?"

Ariel had given it to me. She'd written it down in some spare time – said it was an apology for forgetting about me. "It's a gift," I said. "Take it."

She set it down on the bed next to her.

Then she flung her arms around my neck. "Please, forgive me for everything I've done and said."

"I already have."

Footsteps sounded in the hallway.

Meg shoved me under the bed.

"Hello, Meg," said a male voice. Footsteps came close to where Meg was sitting.

She moved away. "Things have changed, Mr. Thompson. I've just been made an offer I can't refuse."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Someone has offered me a chance to start a new life. A career. I feel I can't refuse."

"What do you mean?" His words were a little slurred. I couldn't see his face, but I had a feeling he'd had some alcohol in the last few hours.

Meg let out a little yelp. Her feet moved away, toward the door.

"You think you can just walk out of this agreement?!" yelled Thompson.

"Oh, right, I suppose we did have an agreement. I will offer to make a deal with you now. I will pack my things and go. I will not be harassed by you in any way. In return, I won't tell your wife about this. Is that clear?"

I liked this new Meg.

The man sputtered something that I won't repeat. The door slammed.

Meg pulled me out from under the bed. "Let's go before he comes back."

"I like you this way."

She gave me the first real smile she'd ever given me. "I think I do too."


	14. Chapter 14

Ariel here.

We spent several weeks there at Phantasma. Erik couldn't stop composing. After his initial warm treatment of Gustave, he had thrown his grief into music, most of which so terrified Gustave that he couldn't even stay in the lair and cried when I came to fetch him for bed.

It was no good talking to Erik when he was composing. I might as well have tried to convince a wall.

If I wasn't trying to mother Gustave after the loss of Christine – mothering being one of many things I'm no good at, by the way – I was singing Erik's new music. None of it was good enough for him. Each piece moved every emotion I had to its extreme – but for Erik, it wasn't enough. It was never enough. It was all dark and disturbing for the first week, but as the time passed, the music began to grow lighter, to show hope and light.

Still, it kept me too busy to think about everything that had happened. About my horrible guilt.

Erik kept scribbling notes and words onto music sheets, thrusting them at me, telling me to sing.

I didn't know where Edward was most of the time – I think he was visiting with Meg.

One afternoon, Squelch came down into the lair.

"Master, there's a visitor for your guest. He calls himself the Doctor."

Erik didn't even pause in his playing. "Do you know him?"

"I think so. If he's here, it's important."

Minutes later, the eleventh Doctor strode into the room. He smiled at me. "Ariel! It's good to see you again."

"Hello. Erik, this is the Doctor. He was a friend of my friend Ivy. The one from Paris."

The Doctor grinned. "And this must be Erik, the Phantom of the Opera! It's a pleasure, Phantom!"

"What brings you here?" asked Erik.

"Ariel and Edward can't stay here. It'll rip a hole in time and space."

"_What_?" said Erik.

"Very complicated, lots of timey wimey... stuff involved. But they need to leave."

I'd never see Erik again. Almost certainly.

The Doctor, as if reading my mind, handed me a mirror. It was a hand mirror, decorated with what looked like gold.

"So you can have lessons still. It can't break, it's made from highly refined and polished adamantium."

He gave Erik the same mirror. "If you take the stone out of the back and put it on a larger mirror, you'll be able to see each other in that, too!" he said. "And if you want to turn this back into a real mirror, just push on the flower at the top of the mirror design and you won't have to worry."

There was silence for a moment.

"Come on, Ariel, we have to go. I have a lot of loose ends to tidy up, now that..." he cut himself off.

"Now Ivy's dead?"

"Yes. Where's your friend?"

"Probably with Meg Giry."

"Then we'll have to find her. Say goodbye, we have to go."

I turned to stare at Erik, then threw my arms around his neck. "Erik... goodbye."

"I don't understand, what's he talking about?"

"I'll tell you through the mirror. As soon as I get home. But I guess now we have to go."

"Wait a moment." Erik pulled the music sheets off the piano and picked up the songs he'd written. I could barely carry all the papers. "Take them."

"Erik, I can't –"

"They're a gift for you. I can write them down again. Take them."

I took them. "Be good to Gustave."

"I will."

The Doctor took my arm and pulled me out the door. His TARDIS stood outside.

He pushed me inside and shut the door.

"Now, to find your friend..." He grabbed a switch and threw it.

We took off and hit the ground again hard.

The Doctor ran out the door.

A moment later, he dragged in a confused Edward.

"What are you doing?" he asked, pulling away.

The Doctor explained as he started the TARDIS up again.

Edward fell over as the TARDIS took off.

It hit the ground again hard.

We got up off the ground.

"I'm sorry about that," said the Doctor. "It was a... complicated situation. I both let you stay as long as you could safely, but for you to stay much longer was too dangerous."

"I knew I wouldn't be long until it came to that. But you _really_ couldn't have given us any warning?"

"I was busy."

"You're a time traveler."

"And I didn't want to spoil your fun."

Edward glared.

I was kind of ticked off too.

"Thank you, Doctor, for taking us home," I said.

I left the TARDIS, clutching the mirror. Edward followed closely behind me.

We headed inside. I changed out of my dress and into jeans and a T-shirt.

Edward was waiting for me downstairs. "I have to go. Your parents will kill both of us if they find out you were in here alone with me for any length of time."

"Thanks. For everything."

I watched as he drove away, then walked up to my room and picked up the mirror. My own pale face stared back at me.

I pressed the flower. "Erik?"

A masked face appeared. "Ariel?"

A sob of relief escaped my mouth. "Yes, it's me. And this time, I'm not going anywhere."


	15. Chapter 15

**I finished NaNoWriMo! Yay! ****A 50,000 historical retelling of Cinderella, set on the Titanic. It was a challenge, and the longest story I've ever written. But the deadline motivated me to write my own story for the first time in ages, and I'm glad the first draft is done. As is this story... the next one in the series will be up in a day or two, hopefully.**

Ariel here.

I saw Edward again a few days later, at the final performance of _The Sound of Music_. The show's several month run hadn't been quite as long as expected, but it had been a thrill to be a part of it.

He came to my dressing room afterwards with flowers.

"How are you doing? Is your mirror working okay?"

"Believe me, I'd be an emotional mess if the mirror wasn't working. Remember what happened before our production of _Phantom of the Opera_?" The production had happened just after I had met Erik for the first time. I'd spent months under him, learning, then had to leave suddenly.

"You were _not_ a mess in rehearsals. You just weren't your best."

"Be honest. I was a mess."

He didn't comment further. "So, do you know what you're doing next? Should I expect your Broadway debut any time soon? "

"No, no Broadway debut. Not yet. I wouldn't be surprised if it did happen soon, though. My acting isn't really up to par with any other Broadway actresses, but someone who wants to take advantage of my reputation might cast me anyway. Or, at least, put me as an alternate or understudy or something."

"How are you doing, talking with the Phantom through a mirror?"

"Really well. He's continuing to teach me." I picked it up from off her dresser and stared into it, then set it down. "I just hope I can live up to the hype with this new production."

"What do you mean?"

"I get hyped as being this crazy talented singer and actress. And I actually have to _live up_ to that hype. The singing, I can handle. The acting... is harder. Do you have _any idea_ how scary that is?"

"Don't worry. You've got Erik helping you this time. You're going to blow everyone away."

"Thanks. I wish you could talk to Meg this way too, but..."

"It's okay. Meg doesn't need me. She's quite a different person than the one you met. She got a job as a performer. She's got a bad reputation right now, but she says she wants to leave it behind."

"Good for her." I cleaned the last of the makeup from my face. "She's going to be seeing the early days of Broadway. So will Erik. That should be interesting to hear about."

There was silence for a moment.

"Do you have any thing you're doing next?" asked Edward.

"No musicals or plays, but I'll be singing at some fundraisers and all that in the next few months. Speaking of which, would you care to join me in a few duets for those? For charity?"

"It could be for nothing and I'd sing a duet with you."

"That's sweet of you." I'd met a lot of guys in my time as a theater actress, but I'd ever met anyone quite like Edward.

I glanced back down at the mirror. "Did we do the right thing, Edward? Letting all of that happen?"

He considered a moment. "I wish I could give you a definite answer. It might have been the right thing. On the other hand, it might not have been." He shrugged. "But what should we do?"

"Twisted every way," I sang softly. "What do we do? What answer can we give? I have to live knowing I might have been able to prevent the death of the person who my singing teacher loved – and knowing that I'll never really know whether my choice was right."

"I guess this is what Ivy felt like."

"I don't envy her." I put the mirror down.

"Weren't Jack and Miranda coming?" I asked. I started cleaning the stage makeup off my face.

"They're on a date, I think they're just a bit late."

"What about Sharon?"

"Also late. They're moving back to where she came from – they have to be out tonight."

"What? Since when?"

"Two days ago."

"How... sudden." I hadn't known Sharon well, but she'd been one of Ivy's friends and it was a shock to realize that she was going.

I guess we meet a lot of people in life. Some stay for a while. Some stay only for a little bit. I'd only really known Ivy from school and, formerly, from ballet class, until I'd learned about what she could do. Sharon, I'd barely known at all. Ivy had changed my life completely. Sharon had just been there, a quiet supporter for Ivy.

I'd had enough of people leaving for a while. "Are you going to stay in town for a while?" I asked Edward.

"Yes. I promise."

"Thanks. Oh, I have to get down to the after party. I'll see you later."

We parted at the stairs to the basement.

I didn't know what would happen to me next, but I would deal with it as it came. I could face anything now.


End file.
